In view of the great man’s indignation, Cæsar made no reply, but left the house. He lunched at his hotel, gave orders that if any one brought a letter or message for Señor Pérez Cuesta they should receive it, and went again to the Rue de Provence, where he said he had had the good luck to find his cheque.
With all these goings and comings it got to be three o’clock, and Cæsar turned his steps toward the Café Riche. Yarza was there and the two talked a long while. Yarza knew of the manoeuvres of the Minister of Finance, and he gave his opinion about them with great knowledge of the business questions. He also knew Recquillart’s clerk, the Catalan Pujol, of whom he had not a very good opinion.
The two friends made an engagement for the next day and Cæsar hurried to his hotel. He wrote to the Minister, telling him what the fundamentals of Dupont de Sarthe’s project were; and between his own ideas and those Yarza had expounded to him, he was able to draw up a complete enough plan.
“The Minister being a man who knows nothing about all this,” thought Cæsar, “when he understands that the ideas I expound are those of the celebrated Dupont de Sarthe, will find them wonderful.”
RECQUILLART’S CLERK
After having written his letter and taken a little tea, he lay stretched out on a divan, until they brought him word that a young man was asking for Señor Pérez Cuesta.
“Send him up.”
Señor Puchol entered, a dark little man who wore a morning-coat and had a hat with a flat brim edged with braid.
Cæsar greeted him affably and made him sit down.
“But are you not Spanish?” Cæsar asked him.